The event of two nights ago kept replaying in my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about him. His ocean blue eyes that held me captive. His midnight black hair that looke so soft if I touched them. His plump lips and strong jaw line. The heat that I felt under his intense gaze. And the sparks that make my knees trembled when he touched me.
I was going insane. I had no idea why I feel this way. It was frightening to think how he affected me just because of a mere touch. On the other hand, I felt like I needed him — my soul needed him. The fact that I had not hold a normal conversation with the guy, yet feeling these kind of emotions at the same time, made questioning my sanity.
Surely, I wasn't the only one who felt that way. The ocean blue eyes that held me captive the other night were swimming with emotions. I shook my head as the thought of asking him on a date crossed my mind.
No, I couldn't even possibly ask him for a date. First, he was practically my boss. Second, I didn't have his phone number. And third, even if I had his phone number, I wasn't sure I had the courage to ask him since he left me flustered after kissing my hand.
He was just gone. Poof.
Mr. Rivera informed me that Mr. King avoided speaking in public. He only did it when it was absolutely necessary. He also told me that till the event was over, our CEO chose to listen to anything the host had to say from the balcony. He merely went to the Gala to close a few business deals.
A knock on my door brought me back to realty. I looked up, only to find Timothy — one of the security guards — standing with a bouquet of white roses.
"Ms. Jourdain, you have a secret admirer," the old man teased me.
"What?" I blushed as I stood up from my seat, "And it's Charlotte to you."
"But Ms. Jourdain sounds more sophisticated," he chuckled, making wrinkles around his eyes more permanent, "Here, take it. I really hope he's a good guy."
"Timothy," I sighed, "I have no idea who sent this. For all we know, it could be a sociopath trying to gain attention."
"Well, there's a note on the bouquet. And if it's creepy, tell me later, okay? I need to return to my post. I only dropped this for you because you're my favorite."
"Okay," I grinned at him, "Thank you, Timothy!"
He dashed to the elevator, leaving me alone holding the bouquet. It was a massive bouquet. Deep down, I wished it was from a particular man who kept my mind reeling. I pouted a little as I realized the chances were very slim.
Holding my breath, I grasped the card between my finger and opened it ever so slowly.
White roses reminded me of you
- E. King
I gasped as I read those words. My entire body was practically vibrating with delight. He was thinking about me! His simple words made me feel like my heart was going to burst. It was strange how engrossed I was with the thought of him. But I craved him with everything in me. And I had finally felt like I wasn't crazy about the hollowness I felt all these years. Even though I didn't have the entire picture yet, I was certain that Mr. King was an important piece of the puzzle.
With determination, I put the bouquet on my desk and walked out of my office with the note between my fingers. I just got a reason to ask Mr. King's phone number. I was kind of proud of myself.
Marching to Mr. Rivera's office, I knocked on the door and waited for permission to enter. The moment I heard the permission, I quickly opened the door and closed it behind me.
"Mr. Rivera, do you have a moment?" I asked, slightly out of breath after my fast walk.
"Of course," he said, frowning at my state, "What's the matter, Ms. Jourdain?"
"Nothing is going on, Sir," I reassured him, "I-it's just… Do you mind if I ask for Mr. King's phone number?"
Mr. Rivera looked slightly startled before a smirk plastered on his face. Oh God, he knew something was going on.
"I do have his phone number. The question is, why should I give it to you?"
I blushed as I handed over the note. Surely, Mr. Rivera must know what the CEO's handwriting looked like. If he said it wasn't Mr. King's handwriting and someone making fun of me, I'b be very disappointed.
"He just gave me a bouquet of flowers. I want to say thank you," I blushed.
His smirk widened as he read the note. To my utter delight, he wrote something — hopefully Mr. King's phone number — on the sticky note and gave it to me. I grinned at him.
After thanking Mr. Rivera, I marched back to my office and plopped down on the chair. I quickly saved his phone number on my iPhone. Then, I decided to text him a friendly with a slight formal undertone text as a safe option.
Charlotte
Thank you for the flowers, Mr. King. I really appreciate it
- Charlotte Jourdain
A groan escaped my lips after I stared at my phone screen for five minutes without getting any reply. Even though I knew he was a busy person, I still felt dejected. I pouted and decided to concentrate on my work. Maybe, just maybe, he'd responded to my text when I finished my work.
——
It was 8 PM. More than 6 hours since I texted Mr. King. He had not replied to my text.
Feeling sad, I munched on the second chocolate bar on my couch with a blue blanket wrapped around my body. If he wasn't interested in me, he wouldn't have bought me a bouquet. I tried to be positive. But it was difficult when the one person you were interested in ignored you.
My pity party was disturbed by the vibration of my phone. I had already taken six calls this evening from other companies to discuss our collaboration campaigns. The peak season had always been a busy time for me. I usually didn't mind much. However, I was really not in the good mood. Still, I was professional at my job. I was not going to let my mood destroy my career.
Assuming it was another business call, I picked up the call without looking at the caller ID.
"Good evening," I greeted the caller with my usual business tone, "The King's Enterprise Public Relation. This is Charlotte Jourdain. How may I help you?"
There was a moment of silence. I was about to check if the call had ended. Before I could do anything, I was stunned when I heard a deep velvety voice saying my name.
"Ms. Jourdain," the voice said with the perfect French accent.
I gulped hard with wide eyes, knowing the possibility of the owner of the voice. Slowly, I pulled away my phone to see the caller ID. And just like I predicted, it was the god damn man who was making me sad for not replying to my text.
"Yes?" I finally replied with a whispered voice.
"I apologize for not replying to your text," his deep voice made me shiver, "I had back-to-back meetings. I didn't have time to check my phone."
"It's okay. I understand, Sir. And thank you again for the flowers, Mr King. It was sweet of you."
"Your most welcome, Ms. Jourdain," there was a pause before he said, "Do you have anything to do on Friday Night?"
I blinked, "Not that I can remember, Sir."
"Good. May I ask you to come to dinner with me?"
Holy fucking shit! Mr. King — the finest man that I'd ever seen — was asking me for a date. This was like a dream come true. Wait… He didn't mention if it was a date-date or a business matter. God damn it. So much for getting my hopes up.
Clearing my throat, I squared my shoulders as I asked, "I'd love to, Sir. It would be an honor. May I ask what I am required to do?"
Again, he paused. "What we are going to do on Friday night isn't business related at all. You intrigued me, Ms. Jourdain. I want to get to know you. Will you let me?"
Straight to the point. He just kept getting better. How was I going to survive being alone with him on Friday night?
"Okay," I squeaked, making me blush. God damn it. I cleared my throat while trying to slow my heartbeat, "Okay, Mr. King. See you on Friday, then?"
"See you on Friday, Ms. Jourdain. I'll text you the details," he chuckled.
Oh merciful God. His chuckle was making me warm all over my body. What was he doing to me?